The Hypnotising Glare of a Cobra
by Perhenwen
Summary: He coldly regards their affair as a casual convenience, but she is nevertheless entranced. There can be no happy ending. Dark OCSnape story, told in three voices.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's notes: Thanks to Dark Hamadryad from Perfect Imagination for her excellent editing.

**Chapter One – The Diary**

April 17th

It has come to my mind to keep a diary. I feel a need to record some recent events that I can't make head or tail of, and why not in this book?

He can't find out, of course. That would defeat the purpose. He's so secretive about his comings and goings, and I understand our relationship is not to be known. It bothers me. So, there is a ten-year difference. It's nothing to be ashamed of, in my opinion, and certainly not for _him_. But I think he's trying to intimidate me into being quiet against my will, for when I feel like bringing it up with him, he just gives me one of those looks with the black eyes of his, and I feel like fainting.

It has been such an odd affair. We meet silently for sex, but we speak sparingly, of mundane things. Perhaps it is vain of me to think he would have any interest in getting to know me.

I know he's bad news, but it's like I can't stop. I try not to think of the fact that he once was my teacher, seven years ago. Things are different now. I've prepared and delivered ingredients for his classes for six years, and although he ignored me for the first five, I think that counts as some sort of adult relationship.

I'm trying to understand why I keep seeing him. There's nothing romantic about our exchanges. I've heard about those silly women who like to be dominated, but I never thought I'd be one of them. I'm a Ravenclaw: a clever girl with a bright future. My parents would faint, I think, if I ever brought him to see them. Not that I would, of course. But I'm not a girl anymore. I'm a young woman in my prime, and I can do what I want, right?

There's a tiny voice at the back of my head, telling me to stop.

June 2nd

School reunion was today. We were supposed to meet up at the Founder's Ball, and bloody expensive it was too, especially for an Apothecary's assistant like me, but I decided to go.

We were to meet briefly before the dinner started, at an inn in town, and I came early, having received some time off work to get ready. Besides, I was feeling a little bit excited. Would this be the time he would finally show himself with me in public?

There was a note left at the reception, there, for me, not from him. Written in a woman's hand, by the looks of it. Having about an hour to spare before his arrival, I sat down in the dingy lobby (his choice of place, not mine).

The note was very brief. "Do you _really_ think he loves you?" it said. It was signed "Julia."

Who's Julia? I was fuming. Who was this girl who thought she knew all about my affairs? His _wife_? I left immediately, of course. And then I ran into him outside the music building where the ball was to be held: the Headmaster, him, and a woman on his arm. Julia. I was quite proud of myself then, to be able to walk past him, giving him only the barest of cold glances. Inside, however, I could not focus on anything but him and that woman standing at the opposite end of the room. Being among the first to arrive, which I had been trying to avoid in the first place, I felt terribly uncomfortable. In the end, I stole some nibbles and left, back to the place where I'd just been. He wasn't about to go there by the looks of it, it was closer than home, and I needed some peace and quiet. Why I didn't think of Apparating, I don't know. I've avoided it lately.

There, at the old inn just off Knockturn Alley, I sat down to gather my thoughts. Maybe it was better to be free, I thought, not to be involved in some sordid affair. And then he came.

I showed him the note, and I will admit it took some courage to do so because he looked sour as hell. "Bloody, meddling woman," he snarled, and I was cold and fuming. I just looked at him, knowing I needed to say nothing. "My cousin Julia," he said, "likes to stir up trouble."

"I'm still feeling nauseous in the mornings," I said then. The nibbles had brought it to mind. I had asked him for a potion to end my pregnancy, knowing that if I prepared one for myself at work there would be trouble. These potions are expensive, even to make. "You said it was the after-effects of the potion, but it's been going on for weeks now."

"Perhaps you should think twice before asking a Slytherin for a potion," he replied coolly and my insides turned to ice. Why had he given me a faulty potion? To be cruel?

"I'll need a new potion, then," I said. "The fumes I've been exposed to at work are not for pregnant women. There will be damage." And I shuddered, thinking of the misshapen lump in my belly, soon to be expelled.

"I'll tell Julia to get one for you;" he said and continued acidly, "in fact, she'll be very happy to. She so likes to get … involved."

"How very practical for you," I replied. "But you making it would be the _decent_ thing."

He just looked at me, then, calmly. "I'm very busy right now," he said. Fury flared up within me and abolished the cold.

"Never mind, I'll get it," I said. "I'm by no means destitute."

July 19th

I've met Julia. She waited for me outside my house today, and asked if she could have a word. There was no doubt about whom the conversation concerned.

"He wants an heir," she said and snorted. "So his _brilliance_ can carry on through generations. Personally, I think it's the _worst_ sort of nonsense I've heard in a long time."

"Through _me_?" I asked, and was surprised. Don't Slytherins go for Slytherins? And wouldn't he prefer a pure-blood? I know of his ambitions, his involvements. One would be blind not to realise. I think it pleases him that I fear him.

"Why ever not? You're a half-blood, certainly, but I must assume you're clever and good with a wand. Have you ever thought his choice of women might not be that _extensive_?"

I suppose not. Most women aren't fools, like me. It's like my mind isn't strong enough to resist whatever it is he's doing to me. I suppose I was drawn in. He's so different from everyone, powerful and mercilessly intelligent. And when he looks at me, it's like I'm falling into a tunnel. It's a curious feeling, like being eaten by a snake. I just can't look away.

"Well, Aniara, I've warned you," Julia said, her mouth a thin line. "There's nothing more I can do, and at least I've relieved my _own_ conscience. It's in your hands, now."

October 4th

I'm pregnant again. Damn those useless cheap potions! He's offered to marry me. Not in a romantic way, of course – it's not in his nature. "We'll marry," he said. "The child is to have my name, and you shall move in with me."

So that's that. Why can I never say 'no' to him? Suddenly, everything is moving so fast, too fast. My career is gone; I'm to stay home with a child instead. And all I do is sit there, entranced and a little bit afraid.

When I remained quiet, he continued, "You can continue your career when you've raised the child. St. Mungo's never takes on young Healer apprentices anyway. And you already have five or six years of work experience. I'll sort out some references for you."

I suppose it's kind of him, to do that. I didn't expect him to.

December 13th

So, we're married. I didn't really imagine getting married like this; it was so dull, signing a few scrolls, and having a small meal with the close family afterwards. My parents looked like they'd just been to a funeral. Needless to say, the food vanished quickly and the elf-made wine was nearly untouched. Severus kept the bottles.

January 1st

I've finished work now, and I think I'll miss it a lot. I tried to put on a cheerful face as I left, though. I don't want them to feel sorry for me. I'm happy to have a baby, but I worry about how life will be for us. At least we'll be together. I look forward to meeting this little person so much. Severus does too, in his own way. He keeps looking at my belly as if he expects it to burst out into conversation at any moment.

I haven't heard from my parents since the wedding. The owls return with my letters unopened.

March 26th

This house drives me mad. It's old, and it smells, and I just sit here, staring at the walls. I'm not supposed to Apparate while I'm pregnant, and Severus hardly ever comes here. Julia visits occasionally, and gives me pitying looks. She has helped me decorate the nursery, and she knew some clever charms to get rid of the persistent old grime in the kitchen and bathroom. But the carpets are still old, and the air is stale. I tried to read some books, but I'm so tired all the time. It's like the baby is eating me up from within. I hate this house.

March 31st

Severus brought me a potion today. Apparently, Julia told him I looked pale. I wanted to ask him about trusting Slytherins with potions, but I didn't dare. His eyes thinned anyway. I think he can read my mind.

July 10th

My baby is small, thin and black-haired, and he just eats and eats. This strange little creature is not what I thought he would be. He ate me up from within and now he continues from without. I once thought of throwing him out the window. Severus, who was visiting at the time, gave me one of his _looks_, and now Julia stays with me most days. She's paying someone to run her shop in Diagon Alley for her. Severus is here most nights. His presence isn't comforting; in fact, he glares at me most of the time. I spend my days trying not to cry.

I wish I could just leave my baby here and run away, but I can't. Who will take care of him if I go?

I can't write anymore now. They watch me all the time, and I want to protect this book from their eyes. It's my pretence of privacy. He reads my mind all the time, now, his black eyes boring into mine.

I am eaten.

Author's notes: _Aniara_, written by Nobel laureate Harry Martinson, poses the question why humans have a tendency to use their enormous intelligence to do evil or damage. The idea of a soul being eaten when it isn't, is taken from Ursula K. LeGuin's The Tombs of Atuan.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's notes: Thanks so much to Dark Hamadryad from Perfect Imagination for her excellent editing.

**Chapter Two – How Severus Snape Got Himself Into a Mess**

He never really noticed her until her sixth year, when she somehow managed to wheedle herself into his Advanced Potions class without him expecting it – he had never once given her an 'O'. However, once she started taking his class, he did not object too much to her being there. Aniara Hawthorne was a quiet girl, who made her potions well and without mistakes.

A typical Ravenclaw, Miss Hawthorne worked diligently by the book but had little of the flare that he demanded from an 'O'-student. However, and most importantly, she never caused him any trouble. Even her handwriting was very legible, almost as if she was determined not to bother him. Consequently, she glided through Advanced Potions as easily as she had glided through her first five years of Potions classes – a hardly noticeable speck at the edge of Severus Snape's mind – and he expected her final exam performance to be acceptable.

Naturally, he was rather surprised when she knocked on his office door at the end of her last term, explaining that she wished for a reference letter to follow an application for a job as an Apothecary's Assistant. The request was not only impudent, but highly out of character.

Severus was already not in the best of moods that day, as Professor Flitwick, his small eyes gleaming excitedly, had reminded him at lunch that they next year were to receive not one, but _two_ Weasleys. Severus, however, had been disgusted by the news, and his brooding over the new arrivals would no doubt cloud his summer in grey. Any parents with any sense, he thought, would realise by the time that Percy Weasley turned three or so, that they had exhausted their spell of good breeding and should cease immediately.

Not the Weasleys, though, Severus thought dryly. No, they insisted on making the most out of free schooling, or maybe they hoped that at least one of their offspring might get lucky enough to be able to support them through old age? Whatever the reason, Severus Snape had to suffer through classes with each and every one of these obstinate Gryffindors, and he was not pleased at all. Hence, he was filing away scrolls with terse movements, brooding over his miserable bad luck when the knock sounded.

He stared at the brown-haired girl while she nervously stated her request, trying to recall her name. Unsuccessful, he gave her a stern glare.

"You expect me to write a personal reference for you, _Miss_, despite the fact that I right now cannot even recall your name? Perhaps you have failed to notice my utter disinterest in your schoolwork?"

"It's Miss Hawthorne," she said.

He glared at her again, incensed at the fact that he could not withdraw points from her. Then he snatched a bit of spare parchment from his desk and scribbled on it: "Miss Hawthorne has caused no accidents in Potions class. I see little reason for _not_ hiring her for any menial job that consists of repetitive tasks, except for the fact that she is female (a fact that should stand as a deterrent on its own)." He signed it with a furious flourish and handed it to her.

"There," he said. "Now, get out!"

Thankfully, she did, with a radiant smile on her face that quickly died a quiet death when she saw his dark scowl. The door closed behind her, and he did not give her another thought for the next six years.

He noticed, of course, that she miraculously had got the job when she started undertaking the (appropriately) menial task of delivering delicate ingredients to his office a couple of times a year. But as his mind grew more and more occupied by the looming return of his former master and the abominable state of said master's adversary, Harry Potter, he did not reflect further on Miss Hawthorne. Students of his began to populate the wizarding world, obstructing his path wherever he went, and he never acknowledged their acquaintance.

It was when the Dark Lord returned, however, that everything went wrong. Severus could not deny that he had led a comfortable life at Hogwarts, protected as he was by the Headmaster, and that the dark stains on his mind and soul had receded into grey specks of faded memory. Meeting his old master, however, brought it all out anew. All summer, he spent trying to suppress his longing for the Dark Arts, longing to feel that absolute power, to revel in abilities so poorly substituted by punishing school misdemeanours. His new role as a double-agent did little to relieve his renewed urge, and when the new term started, his mood was blacker than ever.

_Dear_ cousin Julia, however, determinedly continued the quarterly futile attempts to uphold family bliss and paid her post-holiday visit seemingly oblivious to his state of mind. Sitting in his school quarters (which she much preferred to his house at Spinner's End), she absentmindedly adjusted her light brown hair bun with one hand and drank her tea using the other, while Severus glared at her in ominous silence. There simply was no getting rid of this annoying relative, so oblivious to hints and forgetful of insults as she was. He had long ago stopped wasting his time on trying to invent ways to prevent her from seeing him, as she obviously saw it as a purpose in life. Spinsters were far more persistent than Death Eaters, in that respect. Sometimes all one could do was quietly hear them out while giving them the odd glare.

"_Really_, Severus," Julia said, while pointing a patterned lilac boot at the worn carpet underneath their feet as if she'd just discovered it, "you simply _must_ do something about this carpet. Its condition is deplorable. You _know_ I know all the traders and can get the school a good price. Anyone who comes into this room must think you're quite the slob. If your _dear_ mother had lived–" He glared at her then, to no effect. "­–she would have objected strongly. She was so _careful_ of everything's quality, mother always said. I shall have a word with Albus Dumbledore, I shall."

"You do that," he muttered. His brandy glass stood on the table, untouched. He was aching for it, but he knew that if he picked it up, it would prolong his cousin's visit and with it, his own personal hell.

"And what _is_ this new development with the Potter boy? Gone off his rocker, I've heard. What a shame, with such _talented_ parents."

"He always performs pitifully in my classes," Severus couldn't resist replying. "The boy is mediocre to the last degree."

"All the _more_ sad." Julia shook her head in her disapproving, spinster-like way, and for a brief moment, Severus did not know who annoyed him the most, Julia Prince or Harry Potter. He watched his brandy broodingly while Julia finished her tea, her eyes darting over the room, looking for more ways to interfere in his life, but gratefully failing to find any. The moment she put down her cup, he pointed his wand at it and sent it down to the kitchens. She blinked at the empty spot on the table between them.

"_Now_, Severus," she said mildly, "that was _quite_ badly mannered, you know. Well, I must be on my way anyhow, no matter. The shop doesn't run _itself_, you know. I'll see Albus on my way out." She rose and gathered her purple robes with efficient hands. "Until next time, then, Severus."

He gave her a sharp, disapproving nod and downed his brandy as soon as she closed the door behind her. The black stains on his soul were aching to explode into Dark rampage. He needed an outlet, desperately.

And then, on the Monday of the second week of the term, came his delivery of potions ingredients. It was the same girl as always, and he watched her silently as she opened her parcel carefully, letting him examine its contents. She was a plain girl, with delicate hands well suited for preparing potions, and not badly shaped. Very 'old English' style, he thought, with her pale skin and shy manner.

She retreated quietly as he bent over the parcel briefly. Satisfied, he then looked up at her, and was rather surprised to in her eyes see fear mixed with curiosity, and, unbelievably, a bit of lust. He was accustomed to putting fear into his students, a fear that would sometimes last beyond the school years, but a woman being interested in him, an _old student_, was implausible bordering on the ridiculous.

"That will be all, Miss Hawthorne," he said smoothly as he suddenly remembered her name. The expression in her eyes did not change, and suddenly, all the pent-up, frustrated emotion inside made him rash. He scribbled a money letter for Gringotts on a piece of parchment and handed it to her.

"Here. Unfortunately, I'm short on coins today. If there's any trouble with this letter, I'll be staying at The Augurey tonight, as I have some business in town. You may contact me there, if need be."

Her eyes widened as she regarded him mutely, fearfully. The darkness within him was rising, now, and he averted his gaze lest he should do something stupid.

"You may leave."

And so it all began. He did manage to hide his affair from most people for quite some time. With his irregular comings and goings, no one bothered about the odd night spent in town. If spending a night with an older student bothered him a little, that feeling was outweighed by the gratifying domination that came with it, and her fear of him was a trigger that worked as an outlet for his dark frustrations. It was a very good arrangement, but there were two things he hadn't counted on: pregnancy and the inevitable interference of his nosy cousin.

It was during her late spring visit that Julia suddenly put down her teacup with a sharp _clack_, her unflattering features closed in a disapproving scowl.

"So, you're _intent_ on ruining this young girl, then?"

Severus blinked, surprised by her audacity, and by the unexpected attack. "I'm not sure I follow," he said smoothly, giving her his standard glare.

"Don't think your weekly visits to town escape _me_, young Severus. What are you, fifteen years her senior? It's simply _indecent_."

"You _followed_ me?" His mind was racing, all thoughts denying the plausibility of the fact that his Aunt Julia had succeeded to trace him where the Dark Lord had not.

"I was delivering a gift-basket to an old lady who lives opposite The Augurey when I first saw the both of you meet outside. _Accident_ was it? Well, I've noticed your _weekly_ stalk down the high street, and I'm not an idiot. The question is, what do you intend to _do_ about the situation?"

"I really don't see the relevance in discussing this with you, _cousin_," he said with narrowing eyes. Julia Prince shifted a little in her chair, her back very erect.

"Well, what if she gets _pregnant_?"

"I assure you, she is an adept potion maker."

His cousin's face blanched, as if she only just now realised the implications of that statement.

"Yes, but if …"

"Because any progeny of mine would be abhorrent to the world?" he snarled. "Perhaps it would be about time that some decent wizarding stock was born."

"You don't mean that," Julia said quietly, her long, unbearable face very white. "You don't mean to say that …"

"That's enough," Severus suddenly bellowed, rising to his full length so that he could loom over her. "This conversation has come to an end. Now get out, you insufferable old hag!"

She stared at him, her hands shaking slightly in her lap. He was rather pleased to finally have managed to elicit some response from her, but she still sat firm in her chair. He took a step forward.

"Do I need to _throw_ you out?" he asked silkily, and then she quickly gathered her plainly cut maroon robes, put her bright blue witches hat on, and walked quickly out the door.

The next evening, Aniara sent a letter to him, asking for a potion to terminate her pregnancy. Asking him to murder his own child. He sent her a faulty one for the cheek.

It did not surprise him, a week later, when Dumbledore and cousin Julia ambushed him on his way to The Augurey. Dumbledore looked frightfully pleased at having run into him, and told him how Julia had invited him into her shop for some tasty titbits before the Founder's Ball. Professor McGonagall, he said, was unfortunately busy and could not make it. Julia's eyes, meanwhile, shone with a harsh gleam. All Severus could do was to go with them, cursing his cousin every step of the way.

It was inevitable, of course, that Aniara should eventually conceive again. However, it happened far too quickly for Severus' liking; nevertheless, he decided that a child was not necessarily a bad thing. He had been feeling very mortal lately, exposed as he was, and he realised that the Dark Lord was about to put him between the hammer and the anvil. Better, he thought, to have the girl stashed away and in one clever move make sure something of him was left in the world after his passing. The only place he could think of, unfortunately, was the house at Spinner's End, which was currently invaded by a large, spying rodent.

Getting rid of it before the Christmas period might not prove a problem, however, he decided. It was high time that he involved himself in some action anyway, and proved himself worthy of his master's trust. The headmaster understood this, understood that a sacrifice would be necessary for him to prove his worth to his master after a year of spying. The oldest would have to go first …

It was with some curiosity that Severus, six months later, on one of his brief visits, stayed a while to watch his pregnant wife sleep in his bed in the house at Spinner's End. He still could not quite understand why she had wanted him in the first place. He had never imagined that he would get married, or that he would be enticed by the idea of an heir. It was simply too implausible. His marriage was a small satisfaction in his life that made him care less about the imminent murder he undoubtedly had to perform. He would be very lucky to survive the aftermath, if the fact became known.

It soon became obvious to him that Aniara was not happy in his house, and he reluctantly went to Julia to win back her favour. Although she had been in a huff since her summer visit, she had still pulled a few strings to make his marriage papers disappear from the Ministry in December. He decided she was loyal, and his best choice of aide. She very gracefully invited him for tea in her shop, as she was eager to resume their relationship. He sighed, pulled a hand through his hair, and asked her to look after his wife to the best of her abilities while he remained at Hogwarts. She told him he had done the right thing. The ways things were looking, he was not so sure.

Later, when he arrived at his house late one evening in March to see his newborn son, he realised that his wife had a problem that was more than disgust over a little mould in the kitchen sink. One look on her empty eyes told all, and he immediately arranged with Julia for constant surveillance. Somewhere along the line, something had gone very wrong, and the light of Aniara's soul had become a pale flicker, ready to be blown out.

Severus realised that Julia had been right all along. But it was all too late, now. He could do nothing for the former Miss Hawthorne. The wheels were in motion, and he was busy trying to make sure he did not get killed. Sometimes, that was all one could do.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's notes: Thanks so much to Dark Hamadryad from Perfect Imagination for her excellent editing.

**Chapter 3 – The Letters**

Dear Amelia,

Thank you _so_ much for your kind owl. It was very good of you to inform me of that _terrible_ tragedy, and I will of course deliver a gift basket with our condolences to the Diggorys _immediately_. How simply _ghastly_ for them, and if what you say Albus Dumbledore says is true, there are _horrible_ events in store for us all. I'll stand by what I said in the autumn – these kinds of dangerous competitions should not be _allowed_. They are, quite simply, _bad luck_.

I will, of course, continue to keep an eye over my cousin Severus. I have always found it my _duty_ to do so after both his parents died, and especially as he has kept some rather _questionable_ friends in the past. I will _not_ stand for another public humiliation of this family!

How is _dear_ Geoffrey doing, by the way? I was _so_ glad to hear his leg is much better from the potion, and I am certain the Healers will be able to cure him in no time at all. I _sincerely_ hope your neighbour has had that dog put down, though you simply don't _know_ with Muggles, do you?

Anyway, here are some titbits for you both as well. I'm _so_ glad Geoffrey liked the chocolates I sent him; you simply don't _know_ with men, sometimes. Albus Dumbledore is _always_ so grateful for my sweet-baskets for the teachers (in fact, I think he keeps a large amount to himself, the sly old man), but then he has a _notoriously_ sweet tooth that is, I have to say, _quite_ unusual.

Do indulge me with a visit next time you pass by my shop, and give my best wishes to Geoffrey.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince

xxx

Dear Amelia,

I cannot believe it! Albus Dumbledore _vanished_ from Hogwarts?! Thank you so much for the warning – I closed the shop as soon as I saw that Ministry Official coming; there will be no 'Wanted' posters in _my_ shop, thank you very much! I don't know _how_ you keep on working in that place anymore, I simply don't.

And _what_ is the Ministry doing, obsessing over activities at Hogwarts and abroad when there are fishy characters walking down Diagon Alley _every __day_. After that mass breakout from Azkaban, how can _anyone_ feel safe anymore?

Which reminds me, is there a possibility you could come visit the shop this week? I have a fairly _urgen_t matter I wish to discuss with you, regarding young Severus, and I need some _moral advice_.

Give my best to Geoffrey.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince

xxx

Dear Amelia,

Just to let you know, I've spoken to them _both_, now. Thank you _so_ much for finding her details for me, I could not have managed without you! The matter will soon be resolved, I'm sure.

Give my best to Geoffrey, as always.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince

xxx

Dear Geoffrey,

I'm absolutely _heartbroken_ over Amelia's death; I can't even _imagine_ how you must feel. Please accept these small condolence gifts, though I'm aware they can do very little to subdue your grief. If there is _anything_ I can do, please send an owl.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince

xxx

Dear Geoffrey,

I'm so sorry to inconvenience you with this letter, but I simply don't know whom to turn to. There is a _most_ urgent family matter that needs to be resolved, regarding some marital documents. Please pay me a visit, and I will be forever grateful.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince

xxx

Dear Geoffrey,

Thank you so much for your kind enquiry. I'm away on a family matter, and will not be able to return to the shop anytime soon. Show this letter to that _imbecile_ clerk, and tell him to sort out your discount _immediately_ and give you two boxes of chocolates free of charge. I've never _known_ such trouble in the shop before; remind me _never_ to employ anyone ever again!

I'm _so_ glad to hear that dog finally got put down for biting its owner. Long time overdue! Your leg must be feeling _infinitely_ safer.

By the way, since you are rather _experienced_ in Ministry matters, is there _anyway_ one could annul a marriage without the spouse's agreement? I'm concerned for a friend of mine, who has landed herself in some trouble and frankly, is in need of some _help_.

Give my best to your poor mother. I hope she enjoys her chocolates. I'm sure she will get better soon, as I have the _utmost_ trust in St. Mungo's.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince

xxx

Dear Geoffrey,

Thank you _so_ much for looking into the matter for me, and for your _kind_ offer of help, but I'm afraid that since we have no _legal_ grounds, there is little to be done. Besides, I expect you are already busy trying to cover up all those Muggle incidents lately. These are such _wretched_ times. I will manage this, somehow. At least, one must hope.

Give my best wishes to your mother; I'm glad she is better.

Kind regards,

Julia Prince


End file.
